


hello

by purav



Category: 2020 - Fandom
Genre: Diary/Journal, Feelings, Why Did I Write This?, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28016958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purav/pseuds/purav
Summary: i just had to get this off my chest
Kudos: 1





	hello

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not really one for jounaling but i am one for writing everyone random though that falls into my head and trying to make it sound nice.

Words are a bit of a finicky thing. At least to me.

I constantly worry about how what I say ( _or type_ ) sounds like to others. I worry I come off as pretentious or boring or stupid or just plain annoying.

And it’s come to the point where I can't even tell the difference anymore.

**(An apology to everyone that I’ve talked to in the past year)**

Even writing this now I feel pretentious. I’m not one for journaling, in case you were wondering. I don’t even know if I will get to post this anywhere ( _ **if I do, hello!**_ ) It’s winter break, meaning a chance to relax, but in my mind, I feel like a failure because I’m not being productive.

I feel like quarantine has a hand in that. Thinking of the early months that we entered into this isolating void, cutting off all contact with the outside world. We had no choice but to busy ourselves and feel proud that we were able to get things done. But not one ever talks about how it will rear its ugly head, and getting a break during a time where it seemed like the torture would never end seems like a fluke. Or a glitch, if you will, in the simulation that we now consider life.

I’m on winter break and feel absolutely miserable. Maybe, I’ve been miserable for a long time, and school was just a way for me to mask it. Seems to me that I need a new distraction.

Somedays, I’m overwhelmed with the idea that I’ll never be successful in life.Wanting to enter an industry where fame is just part of the job, only become a mediocre nobody who was never able to write anything that made the screen.

It’s my biggest fear.

I see people who are more talented than I and feel ashamed for comparing myself to others. That’s what we learned in school right? Don’t compare, just do the best you can?

I fear that my biggest issue in life is a lack of originality. When it comes to writing, or speaking, or even being. I feel like I come off as a cheap copy of someone else, stealing bits of personality from everyone that I meet until I don’t even know who I am anymore. Perhaps that time is going to come. Or it’s already happened.

Wanting to be known, but the world thinking otherwise is a cruel joke that has been played on me. Maybe, that is just how life works and (un)fortunately I am not one of the lucky ones.

Random but earlier today I was thinking about this story I had read in middle school by Kurt Vonnegut, called Harrison Bergeron. Why do dystopian novels or moves try to make everyone equal? Or separate them into hierarchies based on class or appearance? What is it about individuality that has people so scared? 

I’m going to be twenty next year, and haven’t done anything that I am remotely proud of. I wonder if I will be proud of anything that I end up doing. Age is daunting, and it’s something that looms over me like a shadow. Forgive me for being dramatic, but aging is like a ticking grandfather clock, and after each year the ticks get slower. I’m only nineteen but I feel like my life is coming to a standstill very soon.

_tick-tock. tick-tock._

_times-up. times-up._

I envy those who have success come easy to them. I don’t care what anyone says– working hard for what you want is bullshit, just say that some get lucky.

My (two) unfinished screenplays stare back at me, and I worry they might never get completed. I wanted to finish at least one before next semester starts.

I wanted to ask someone if they could read it, the sad rambling, an unfinished mess of a script I hope to see on screen. I want to ask them so they can confirm what I fear might be true: What I write is typical, nothing new or different, painfully boring and average like I m. Scripts that will never know success, collecting dust on the desk that is my Google drive. 

I finished one screenplay and my friend said she loved it. I can't help but feel like that was a complete lie, told so that my dreams wouldn't be crushed. But it's perfectly alright. I can handle it. 

I have no energy to do anything, I feel drained, which I’m sure everyone does. I feel like a horrible friend, forgetting to text friends while that little red number climbs higher and higher. But what would I say? How do I try to make myself seem interesting enough when I am filled with the idea that they hate me deep down, and only text me because of niceties? 

Somehow “Sorry, I am constantly filled with existential dread and find myself constantly worrying about my failure of a future,” doesn’t seem like the best response to give to your friends since middle school. 

Maybe I am reading too deep into things and posting my innermost thoughts on the internet isn’t the best idea but, I haven’t been filled with a lot of those lately _(im not very creative remember?)_

I feel many things at once, and the joys of cinema can’t take me away from that. I rewatched season 25 of gossip girl over the past month, and in a very weird way, felt connected to Blair and Jenny. Blair chose her own happiness over the prospect of a crown and lost herself in the process. Jenny watched to make it in this shiny and perfect world she adored so bad that she ended up ruining her relationships with her family and the guy she loves **(sorry nate)** to make it happen. Blair was someone who ruled high school with an iron fist, but when it came to the real world, she tumbled and fell from grace, introduced to the harsh realities of the world that Constance-St. Jude didn’t really show. Jenny was someone who wanted to be a part of that gilded world so much, that she lost sight of herself.

I understood how they both felt, and I was both of them. Losing myself and trying to find what was left of the rest of me. I was jealous that Blair was able to find herself again over the course of a few episodes. Jealous that Jenny still had a family that cared for her deeply after the mistakes she made. Too bad Josh Schwartz can’t write a script that solves my problems in about forty pages for me.

I just wish that I can find what it is I want to do and be successful in the things that I desire to do. Once again, the idea that I am good at nothing, only a vessel made to consume media and make a living doing something miserable looms over my head.

God, I hope it doesn’t come to that.

I don’t know how to feel about anything, I don’t know how to do anything. I’m going to watch _Girl, Interrupted_ now.


End file.
